<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I'm Okay, I Promise by Foger</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142120">I'm Okay, I Promise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foger/pseuds/Foger'>Foger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Author venting through a child's roleplay minecraft character [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Avoidant PTSD, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Bad Parenting, Blood and Gore, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Disassociation, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I am so close to snapping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Sam | Awesamdude, Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Mild Gore, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Suicidal Thoughts, Unreliable Narrator, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), depressedinnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:07:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foger/pseuds/Foger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>TommyInnit thinking and having a mental breakdown.</p>
<p>There is a lot of triggering stuff in here, please read at your own risk. TWs will be in author's notes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Toby Smtih | Tubbo, Ranboo &amp; Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson, Sam | Awesamdude &amp; TommyInnit, Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Author venting through a child's roleplay minecraft character [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138835</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>550</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. May or May not be continued, I have committment issues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>TW // mentioned self-harm , suicidal thoughts , suicidal ideation , child neglect , child abuse , death , violence</p>
<p>You know how I said I wouldn't continue this? That was a fucking lie. Enjoy my venting lol.</p>
<p>I am not mentally ok, but I'm being watched or whatever. I'm not allowed near scissors anymore, which is dumb, btw, cause scissors do NOT work for self-harm.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>No matter how much he wanted to pretend he wasn’t, Tommy knew he was a child. He knew that his brain hadn't “completely developed” or whatever, he knew he was still a kid. Age wise, that is, seeing as he never really had the chance to be a child, what with the several wars that plagued the lands that he occupied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a certain point, you start blaming yourself. You start thinking it’s your fault that these things happen, because it only seems to happen when you’re around. And the people around you agree. They agree that you are the source of the problems, even though they had always been there, and you had just happened to be there during the explosion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When his family had left him alone in their little home, going off on adventures and promising to return with gifts, Tommy had slowly begun to realize that nobody cared about him. I mean, why would they? All he seemed to do was annoy people until they had had enough and then they left. It’s what got Wilbur killed, it’s what made Tubbo exile him, it’s what made Dream hurt him, it’s what made Technoblade and Philza hate him, the entire SMP hate him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a while he had blamed himself. Everyone around him did, so he, in turn, started to believe it. He was unlovable, he was selfish, he was nothing but a problem, someone who hurt other people and didn’t even apologize for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s why he had left Technoblade, way back when they were surrounded by the citizens of L’manburg. Surrounded by people who despised and hated him. Techno deserved someone better, deserved someone who wasn’t annoying and who didn’t cause problems just by being alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he had left to Tubbo. He had turned his back on Technoblade, his brother, and had gone back to his </span>
  <span>ex</span>
  <span> best friend. Some small part of him wished that Techno, in his hurt rage, would dig his axe into the back of Tommy’s neck, taking his final life and setting him free. It didn’t happen. Instead, Technoblade had ranted and screamed and Tommy had let his mind slip, his surroundings blurring as his brain stopped thinking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he had blinked, Techno was gone and Tommy was sitting inside Tubbo’s office, Tubbo’s voice filling the silence in the room as Tommy returned back to the world around him. Tubbo had begun to cry, his strong and stoic facade crumbling as he mumbled on about how he thought Tommy was dead, and how he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so sorry, please don’t ever scare him like that again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tommy didn’t know what to say, so he put on his little mask, his mask that was smiles and jokes and teasing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He saw how it comforted Tubbo, how Tubbo’s shoulders had relaxed at his behavior, how Tubbo believed he had Tommy back. The Tommy who would shout and laugh and joke at everyone’s expense. Tommy was almost disappointed at how well it worked. Some part of him wanted Tubbo to see the broken mess of Tommy that was left. The mess of hatred and sadness mingling with bitterness and anger. But Tommy had crafted this mask ever since before Philza had found him in that empty, broken down house. Tommy knew how to be annoying, yet still “loveable”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After locking Dream away in prison, he had visited Technoblade to apologize and to give him his axe back. He would go on his merry way, never to see his family again, just as it had happened all those years ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then it had happened, being dragged into the house, being confronted as if he was fucking insane and needed people to check up on him. It had filled him with rage. Rage that he had so desperately tried to pretend was never there, yet a few words from the people who never cared about him had unleashed it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he had stormed out into the cold, hoping to control himself before he fucked everything up, again. He should probably expect his home to be destroyed, as it seemed that was the only thing his family was good at. Destroying everything and then placing the blame on his shoulders. The scapegoat of the family.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed bitterly into the frosty air, clenching his teeth to prevent the sob that wanted to tear itself out desperately. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to ever think about Dream again, but, of course, they just had to bring him up. To hurt him, to make him suffer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what family meant. Family meant hurting each other and pretending to be sorry. Family meant doing it over and over and over until it was tradition. Family meant cold nights and screaming and anger. Family meant crying in solitude, hurting yourself because you could never hurt them. Family meant lashing out at people around you, because it's the only thing you know, and learning that you’ve become a monster who hurts people. Family meant being abandoned and having no hope that you could ever be loved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy wasn’t stupid. He knew his family never loved him, not how he had loved them. He wished so desperately that he had never been found by Philza, or that he had jumped down into the beckoning lava, or that, when he was in the water during exile, he never woke up to pull himself out. He wished he had jumped onto the hard floor from that tower instead of the water. He wished he had let the cold lull him to sleep, for him to pass out and die from the cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Tommy never got what he wanted. Tommy was meant to suffer over and over. Tommy was being punished for being an awful person, and Tommy just wanted it to stop. He wanted to know what it felt to be happy, to have a family.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something dark echoed in his head. He could just end it all, couldn’t he? Put an end to the pain and suffering. He had the means. He could go where no one would find him in time and do it. He could set himself free. He had nothing to live for. Not anymore. Dream was locked away, his family and friends hated him...he would be better off dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not for them. He wasn’t doing it for them. He was doing it for himself. He was going to be selfish and set himself free and no one could stop him. He wouldn’t let them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was a little scared, if he was honest with himself. He didn’t want to come back as a ghost. He didn’t want to go to heaven, or hell. He didn’t want there to be an afterlife. He wanted there to be nothing. No more thinking, no more being. Just pure nothingness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But how would he do it? There were so many ways he could do it. Should he go with something complex? Something poetic? Or something far more simple? He could say the stupid line Eret had started, about it never being meant to be, but it felt far too cliche. It also wouldn’t make sense. This </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> meant to be. Tommy was going to be free, and no one was going to stop him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one would want to anyway. He was just doing what they all wanted to do. Except he was taking it into his own hands. Maybe, just maybe, it would make them all feel bad. It would make them realize that they might care about him. That they never wanted him gone. But that was wishful hoping, and Tommy had given up on wishes when no one ever came back home all those years ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, he wanted to hurt himself so badly. He wanted to bleed and feel pain. He wanted to make sure this all wasn’t some horrible nightmare, that he wasn’t passed out and dreaming all of this up. He wanted assurance that he was still breathing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything was too cold and too bright. It was too quiet. He mumbled, just to hear anything, but the sound of his own voice made him nauseous, so he shut his mouth tightly. He began to hit his head with his palm, hoping it would make the feeling of being wrong away. The feeling of not being a person made his skin crawl, made the world seem fake, made him start to question whether this was reality.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cold seeped into his clothing, the frost touching his skin. He had fallen onto the floor. He was alive and on the floor. He looked around, the only other living beings around him being the trees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one had followed him. Something he hated, yet was happy for. He was hoping maybe Ghostbur would chase him and maybe comfort him, but that didn’t happen. Was the ghost in Techno’s house even Ghostbur anymore? It was all so confusing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breaths slowed and he lifted himself off from the ground, dusting what he could off of his clothing with a grimace. He needed to focus on going back to the SMP, he had two green fuckers to talk to, and he couldn’t really put it off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He really did not want to visit Dream.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tommy goes POSITIVELY BONKERS</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I saw what happened on Tommy's stream and got so incredibly pissed off. SO I vented :)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW // Blood , Gore , Violence , Manipulation , Death</p>
<p>OH I LOVE THIS CHAPTER.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He didn’t know when he had finally made it back to his home, but he somehow made it back without interruption from the so-called anarchists. Which, considering their whole little “intervention” thing they had going on, was beyond fucking hilarious. At least, to Tommy it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stretching, he changed out of his winter attire, pretending that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>totally</span>
  </em>
  <span> not getting ready to see the man who abused and manipulated him in exile. It’s not as though he had to, he knew that, logically, he shouldn’t visit Dream, he shouldn’t give the man another chance to hurt him...But if he didn’t visit the fucker at least once, he knew Dream would start believing that he had some sort of </span>
  <em>
    <span>effect</span>
  </em>
  <span> on Tommy, as though Tommy was scared, which he wasn’t, by the way. He just didn’t like Dream, the green of his hoodie hurt his eyes and he doesn’t even like ugly people.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stepping out once more into the sun, Tommy walked towards the Badlands, where the aptly named Pandora’s Vault awaited. He hummed a small tune, making detailed notes about his surroundings, trying to ignore the nervousness and fear of going to meet Dream again. It’s not like he was exactly mentally prepared for it, especially after the shit-show that had happened at Technoblade’s house the other day. Was it the other day? Tommy couldn’t remember.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pulling out his communicator, he opened Sam’s contact, sending him a message about his estimated time of arrival to the prison. The prison that held Dream. Dream, who would laugh at him and poke at him and pretend he cared. Did he care? No, Dream didn’t care about Tommy, not one bit. Dream was scared of Tommy. For sure. Not the other way. Tommy wasn’t scared of anyone, he didn’t know nobody, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His head shot up from tracing metaphorical holes into the ground, staring at Sam, who had a grim smile on his face. God, Tommy was probably annoying him with this shit, cause Tommy knew he was annoying. He had made Sam upset, probably. Just from being alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook himself from his thoughts, plastering a large grin onto his face, scrunching his eyes to achieve the look of an actual smile, before bellowing out his hellos to Sam. A flash of an emotion that he had only seen Sam direct at people he cared about passed on Sam’s face, before ultimately turning serious once more. Tommy had only been imagining it, he rationalized. No one cared about him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked into the prison, Tommy’s anxieties flooding him once again, his body screaming at him to leave, to run away and never come back. He couldn’t notice the concerned look Sam gave him, too caught up in his thoughts. “Tommy.” Sam said, Tommy immediately paying attention, lest he piss the man off even more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know you don’t have to visit Dream, right?” At Tommy’s confused look, he continued. “Dream doesn’t need people to check up on him, Tommy. He’s here because he’s done horrible things, because he’s hurt people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ‘he’s hurt you’ went unsaid, but Tommy swallowed at the acknowledgement either way. He took a shaky breath, swallowing the accumulation of saliva that had begun to build up in his mouth, before responding to the creeper hybrid. “I’m doing this because I want to, Sam. I’m a big man! I can take whatever Dream throws at me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam hummed before directing Tommy through the motions of getting ready to visit Dream. His clammy hands had proven an annoyance, as he struggled for far too long with his armor before Sam had simply offered to help and, desperate to get the whole thing over with, Tommy had accepted. Sam gave off an almost comforting warmth, and Tommy had to shove the memories of a happy home away before he simply broke down into the man’s arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, he was on the platform that was crossing the lava. He looked straight ahead into Dream’s little room, his fists clenching as he ignored the heat and light that threatened to swallow him. It would be a quick visit, he reminded himself. He was only here to laugh at Dream and then leave. To show Dream that he was perfectly fine, and that he didn’t wake up at night to the sound of his voice, or the ghost of his fists. He clenched his jaw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was angry. He hated Dream with everything he had. Dream hurt him, abused him. Dream, who he would laugh with, build with, spar with, had used him. Had turned him into this muddled mess of fright and anger and tiredness. Which Tommy had found to be the worst of it. The feeling of not wanting to do anything, not being able to gather materials, not finding any reason to. Not finding any reason to live, to breathe another day. Dream had taken the fire that Tommy had cultivated for years and squashed it down in a matter of months. All because he didn’t align with what the man had wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s the funny part of this whole smp, wasn’t it? If you didn’t align with the beliefs of the people around you, you were thrown to the dirt and labelled as a traitor, as scum by those you had once thought you could trust. People who you thought understood you. It’s a lesson that has been taught to him over and over again. A lesson people seem to think he needed to learn until it was all he could think about. Wilbur, Dream, Eret, Tubbo, Philza, Technoblade...They all have taught them that lesson. And as much as he loved his best friend, and hated the idea of categorizing him with people like Dream and Philza, Tommy wasn’t stupid enough to ignore that his friend had done exactly what he had promised not to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy finally made it to the other side of the lava, stepping off the platform and onto the obsidian floor. Dream stood by his clock, ignoring Tommy as he turned the damn thing like a wheel. He waited as the lava fell for Dream to stop pretending he was there, but all he got was Dream staring into the clock as though it held all the answers that he needed, turning it continuously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lava behind him finally stopped falling, and the small wall that separated him and his abuser finally fell. Tommy stepped into the room, stopping a few feet away from Dream. “Tommy.” Dream finally spoke, turning around and facing the scowling boy. “You finally came to visit again. I’ve missed you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy’s head hurt. “Yeah, well I haven’t missed you, bitch boy. In fact, I don’t think anyone has!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream tsked, “Tommy, that’s no way to talk to your friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not my friend, Dream. You’re just some man in a mask with a god complex.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy immediately noticed the way Dream tensed, the way Dream’s head tilted slightly and how his left foot shifted towards Tommy’s direction, and he immediately clicked his mouth shut. He clenched his fists tighter, pretending that he wasn’t shaking and that Dream didn’t scare him. That Dream wasn’t a few feet away from him, ready to hurt him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See, that’s better, Tommy. You’re so much nicer when you’re silent, you know. That’s how people like you.” Dream steepled his fingers together, his mask grinning almost mockingly at Tommy’s fright. “That’s why they were so glad to see you go, when you were exiled. A few people even congratulated me on training you a little, making you actually likeable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking liar, Dream.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh please, you know it’s true. You’ve seen the way they look at you, the way they grimace every time you act like the ‘old Tommy’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy wanted to pretend it wasn’t true. He wanted to pretend so bad. But he had seen how they looked at him. How Niki glared at him every time she thought he wasn’t looking. How Sam had grimaced earlier. How Jack would tense at his very presence. How Tubbo would avoid him every now and then. It’s because he was annoying. It’s because every time he pretended he was okay, that he was normal, people would avoid him or glare at him. How Philza and Technoblade hated him for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up.” He whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream stared at Tommy. “What was that, Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said-” and before Tommy could finish, a boom shook the building.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alarms began to blare, and Tommy felt his heart drop. Dream turned to the sound of the explosion humming softly again. “Looks like the building is on lockdown.” He said casually, as though Tommy wasn’t back in the clutches of a piece of shit that happened to be colored green.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no no. This can’t be happening.” Tommy pulled his communicator out, typing several messages to Sam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He needed to leave. He wanted to go home and never come back to this hell-hole of a prison. He wanted to be away from Dream, away from the lava, away from the obsidian, away from walls looming around him, threatening to swallow him in the enclosed space. His communicator fell to the ground, the sound of the fall soft against the blaring of the sirens. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to go home. I was supposed to go back home. This is dumb.” Tommy could feel his heart beating to get out of his body, and he lifted a hand to it, clenching so that he could maybe slow the beating. “You’re dumb, Dream.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, it seemed Dream had snapped, and began to rage at the already hyperventilating boy. “No, Tommy, you’re dumb! You’re going to be here for a WHOLE WEEK. You signed the contract! I know you did, because I was the one who wrote it!” He laughed, stepping closer to Tommy. “It’s just like old times, isn’t it Tommy? Just you and me, alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had done it on purpose, Tommy realized. He had planned this, had planned on trapping Tommy with him in this prison in case his original plan of killing Tubbo and locking Tommy away didn’t succeed. The only way Tommy could get out is if he killed himself, and took away his last life. Or-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream spoke up once again, his tone softening as the blaring of the alarms quieted, “I’ve changed, Tommy. I’m better now, I just want to be your friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Dream reached up to his own face, and unclasped his mask. He threw the thing aside, the clatter of the object drawing Tommy’s eyes towards it. “Look at me, Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Tommy did. He stared into the green eyes of Dream, the eyes that held a sickening and fake affection in them. Eyes that made this all the more real. That Dream was a human, a person, and had done this to Tommy, to everyone on the smp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rage filled him. More rage than he had ever felt, more rage than on the days he fought for his disks, or fought against Tubbo, or rage he felt for Philza or Technoblade. He was scared, and he was angry, and he wanted to do nothing more than to wipe the fake smile off of Dream’s face, nothing more than to see his eyes drain of life, crushed by Tommy’s hands as Dream begged him to stop. And so Tommy snapped, and rushed forward.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>_______________________GORE and VIOLENCE TW!!!!!____________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had caught Dream off by surprise, he knew that. Tommy wasn’t really one for violence or gore, he was more for screaming and stabbing shit, a trait that everyone was aware of. So he thrust a kick towards the man’s already spread legs, aiming right for the genitals, a place that would have Dream unable to fight back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream let out a groan, eyes watering in pain as his hands went straight towards his privates, trying to protect the area from anymore damage. But that’s not what Tommy was aiming for anymore. Tommy launched himself on top of the man, before digging his thumbs into the very green eyes he had been staring into earlier. He dug and dug, relishing in the screams of the man underneath him as he begged for Tommy to stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy didn’t care, couldn’t care. With a sickening pop, Tommy had managed to pull one of the eyeballs out of its socket, the eyeball covered in blood as it stared at Tommy, hanging from the sensitive nerves and chords of Dream’s body. Tommy dropped it before pulling out the other, dropping it carelessly onto the dirty floor of the cell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It reminded Tommy of school, when they had dissected some dead parrots and, as a joke, he had shoved the eyeballs into the mouth of the parrot. With a laugh that sounded more like a sob, Tommy grabbed the eyes once more, and shoved them into Dream’s screaming mouth. The gurgles and chokes sounded like music to Tommy, as though he were sitting on the bench with Tubbo and listening to Cat and Mellohi. He hummed their tunes as he prevented Dream from spitting out his own eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>__________________________Dream’s dead pog (Gore over)___________________________</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It grew silent, after a while. A small buzz from his communicator sounded, and Tommy barely glanced in its direction before looking down at Dream once again. He stood up in a daze, walking towards his communicator and lifting it from the ground. The message of Dream’s death seemed to be the only message there, before a flood of questioning messages came through. He messaged Sam again, but there was no response. He put his communicator away before sliding down onto the floor, and staring at Dream’s still-warm corpse.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I killed c!Dream because I wanted him dead so bad i couldn't sleep. I wish I could do this irl /hj</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. In the mood for some COMFORT</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy gets out :)</p>
<p>TW // mentions of dead bodies , blood , eating , suicidal ideation , suicidal thoughts , self harm</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have not slept yet and then i got the mechvibes thingy that makes keyboard go click click and then i wanted to write so here you go. personal shit in the notes at the end, if you want to read lololol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream’s body was starting to smell. Tommy had tried to ignore the stench of the rot, preferring to simply stare at Dream’s corpse as it lie, torn on the ground, while breathing through the bandana that Tubbo had given him, but after a while, the stench seemed to permeate the air, as Dream’s flesh and blood began to melt into the obsidian floor. No doubt the heat of the prison sped up the rotting process, something that Tommy was very much NOT thankful for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had been shaken up for the first few days of the incident. Sure, Tommy had killed people before, but never permanently, and never so...violently. Eventually, he had come to terms with the thought. The thought of being a vicious murderer. It would have bothered him, as people seemed to think it was all he was, but in this world it seemed better to be feared than laughed at. Being kind on the smp meant being taken advantage of, and Tommy had had enough of that to last the rest of his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream did deserve it, if Tommy was being honest with himself. Was he really a monster for putting an end to the manipulator? The starter of wars and insanity? No, he thought not. Sure, people would probably never look at him the same ever again, but when had that ever bothered him? People didn’t need him, and he didn’t need people. He didn’t need anybody. Nobody at all. Not a single damn person.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though he supposed he would miss Tubbo, if Tubbo no longer wanted to be near him anymore. Sam and Captain Puffy as well. They were really nice people, or at least had stayed that way around him so far. He would probably miss Ranboo too, the enderman hybrid finding a spot in his heart for only having met him for a few years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe Technoblade would like him again, if he saw what Tommy had done. After all, Techno was all for retribution and murder, so he would applaud Tommy on his work, no doubt. Philza would probably just ignore him and not care. As he always did. It didn’t matter much to Tommy anymore. Nothing really did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had lost count of the days or hours that had gone by. It had to be days, because the state Dream was in, but then again, the lava surrounding the dark obsidian had most likely sped up the process. He feels like he already thought about this before. Had he? He doesn’t remember. Where was he? Right, time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had lost track of time. He was supposed to be locked up in here for a week or so. Has it been that long? He hadn’t heard anything at all from the outside. From anyone. No one had messaged him on his communicator.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were probably disgusted by him. Disgusted that he had murdered a man. Not innocent in any way, but a man nonetheless. A monster, really, but also a man? A monster of a man? A man of a monster?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why can’t he think straight? It must be because of the awful smell. God, Dream couldn’t give him any fucking peace even in death, could he? No, he had to go ruin everything for Tommy, as usual. He’s glad the fucker is dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Dream was also a friend. Before the war, before the disks, Dream would treat him like family. They were all a big family, something that Tommy hadn’t had for a while. And then Dream had to go and change. Change into this amalgamation of evil that seemed to breathe down his neck wherever he went, digging his claws into Tommy’s mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, did it fucking stink. How does something smell so fucking bad? Dream the stink. Dream was stinky. It was annoying and gross.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes shifted to the left of him, the lava shining back obnoxiously into them. Lava...Dream’s stinky corpse...Perhaps lava wasn’t too bad, though it still terrified him. But, he’d rather have the smell of clean air than Dream’s rotten personality taking physical form.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood, his legs straining against the pressure, shaking despite the heat of the room. He scowled. He was always fucking shaking nowadays, and it was starting to piss him right the fuck off. Why was his body so stupid and fragile and weak? It certainly didn’t suit his manly personality, not at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked down at Dream, smiling at the thought of the role reversal. Here he was, standing above his enemy, his abuser. That’s what Puffy had called Dream, and who was he to deny Puffy when all she had been was nice to him? However long that would last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cracked his knuckles before leaning down and grabbing onto Dream’s ankles, the flesh underneath feeling uncomfortably squishy. Deciding not to think about it, Tommy began to heave the body towards the lava, his body straining at the sudden exercise after sitting for so long. His stomach growled, and he winced at the sharp pang of hunger. Right, he hadn’t eaten since coming to the prison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembered Sam saying something to Tommy about feeding Dream uncooked potatoes, and it had made Tommy laugh. Though, it wasn’t going to be as funny once Tommy had to eat them for however longer he had to be in here. He would have to find wherever the damn things were stored anyhow, after getting rid of the literal dead weight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lava hissed as he carelessly tossed Dream into it. He watched as it consumed the body, eating away at the flesh and clothing that clung to its body. His body. Its body. Whatever, he’s dead anyways, did it really matter?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a whispered “suck it green boy”, Tommy began to search the small room for a chest, which he finally caught a glimpse of after finally looking around the room and not staring at a dead body. He opened it unenthusiastically, not looking forward to </span>
  <em>
    <span>potatoes</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things. God, it was like he was in Pogtopia again. They were both prisons, really.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his surprise, he didn’t see any potatoes. Though, before he could be pissed enough to throw a fit at not having any food, probably throwing himself into the lava as well, he saw glorious, delicious steak. Greedily, his arms shot out for the juicy meat, before he let out a cry as the chest lid came crashing back down, as he had let go to grab the meat with two hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cursing his own stupidity, he pulled the food back out with his right hand, before retreating from the chest and sitting on top of it, taking a bite of the savory meat that had begun to coat his hands. Sure, his hands were a little bloody, but he was too hungry to care. That being said, he didn’t want to make himself vomit, so, after taking a few bites of his meal, he set it back into the chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walked to the sink that was in the corner of the room, washing his hands of the grime, and taking several gulps of water. It tasted funny, but it was sink water, so who was he to complain? He would take any water at this point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A loud noise began to sound, and Tommy practically ran to the lava. He couldn’t see anything, but that had to be Sam, right? Sam had finally come back for him. He had taught Tommy his lesson and now Tommy was free to leave this hell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or he was here to tell Tommy that he was staying. That Tommy was too much of a monster to let out. Either way, Sam was coming, and Tommy couldn’t help the joy that filled him at the idea. Was he crying? His face felt wet, so he was probably crying. He was just so happy to see something that wasn’t the prison or lava or dead bodies. His hands shook from joy. Or fear. Who could tell? Not Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was his mind always like this? Why were his thoughts running so quickly, jumping from topic to topic like it was doing parkour? Had it really been a week in here?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lava disappeared, and Tommy could finally see the exit. And he could see Sam and Tubbo and Puffy waiting on the other side. Why were the others here? To say their goodbyes? To say hellos? God, he was so anxious. He wanted to see the sun again, to feel its heat instead of the blistering, artificial heat of lava. To feel the cool breeze of the air, to taste the air and smell the leaves and flowers. He wanted to go outside, he needed to go outside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, they were all in talking distance, and Tommy opened his mouth to let out his joy, but all that came out were whispers. Annoying, but fixable. Tubbo looked elated, tears already streaming down his face. Typical clingy Tubbo. Sure, he was crying, but he had a reason! Tubbo was just happy to see him or whatever. He missed Tubbo so much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy!” Tubbo cried, hopping off of the moving platform as soon as he knew he was able to make the jump. He was too quick for Sam or Puffy to grab at him in worry, though as soon as they saw he made it onto the platform they relaxed, sighing in fond exasperation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo!” Tommy cried back, trying to rub away the stupid tears that had poured out of his eyes. “Finally decided to break me out of prison, eh? Good man!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo laughed wetly, a fond and almost desperate smile stretching his face. He reached through the wall that separated them and grasped at Tommy, Tommy grasping back quickly in tandem. The wall prevented them from hugging any closer than they currently were, and Tommy drank in all of the comfort that was being given to him. “I have so much to tell you! I missed you so much, it wasn’t the same without you there!” Tubbo exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy involuntarily relaxed at the thought. The thought of Tubbo missing him so much. The thought of Tubbo missing Tommy just as much as Tommy missed him. “You better tell me everything, you bastard! I’ve been trapped in these obsidian walls for way too long, big man. Started seeing ‘allucinations ‘n shit!” Tommy tightened his hold on Tubbo, only feeling slightly disappointed when Tubbo pulled away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s smile dropped as he saw Tommy’s face. “What happened to your face, Tommy? Are you hurt? Did Dream hurt you?” He was almost frantic with his questioning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All Tommy could muster up was a laugh. Dream couldn’t hurt him or Tubbo anymore. He couldn’t hurt ANYONE anymore. He was free. They were all free. “Me, hurt? A big guy like me can’t get hurt, especially by some green homeless loser called ‘Dream’! Just a little bit of blood from an...incident.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy desperately hoped Tubbo got the hint. There was no way that Tubbo didn’t see the death message. That Tubbo didn’t know what Tommy had done. He looked at Tubbo in despair, but Tubbo was looking around the prison, searching for something. “Where’s Dream?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh fuck, did they really not know? There’s no way they didn’t see the message. There’s no way that they actually thought Dream was alive. Why was he so desperate to see him anyway? He shouldn’t care about that monster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Off in hell, I suppose. It’s kind of what happens when you die, ya know.” At that moment the wall separating them finally fell, and Tubbo leaped into the room, clinging onto Tommy’s arm as if he was going to disappear or some shit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam and Puffy entered the room as well, looking around wearily. “Tommy, where is Dream?” Sam asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t look upset. He sounded curious. And he seemed almost relaxed. Relieved, Tommy would say, if he could say with confidence that he knew the man’s tells well. But Tommy didn’t know Sam that well, despite Sam being so nice and taking care of Tommy for a little while.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was he supposed to say? “Surely you saw the message on the communicators, right? You saw that Dream is dead? Or am I hallucinating again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam nodded slowly. “We saw the message Tommy. We just weren’t expecting him to, well, stay dead. He’s a slippery guy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy felt some tension slip from his shoulders. They knew and they weren’t mad. That meant he had done the right thing, right? They came back for him, like promised. And they seemed happy that Dream was dead. Tommy was relieved he had burned the body. He didn’t know what he’d do if they saw the results of Tommy’s act.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we get out of here? This place is starting to creep me out.” Tubbo said, grabbing Tommy’s hand and dragging him out of his week-long prison. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hated the lava, but Tubbo made it a little better. He kept his grip the entire trip across the chasm, humming a little tune as Tommy tried his best not to look down. Sam stood at the forefront, tossing Tommy small smiles every time they caught eyes. Puffy held her hand on his shoulder comfortingly, not too tight and not too loose, though Tommy would probably be able to shift her arm off if he had wanted to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was going to take advantage of this comfort for as long as he could. Tubbo was permanent, sure, but Sam and Puffy were temporary, his experience with adults making him very aware of that. He wished they were his parents, sometimes. That they were the ones who had raised him and Tubbo, and that they were one big happy family that never got involved in conflict or wars. Tommy would be good, because he would have a family to be good for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he dwelled on his thoughts, they made their way out of the prison all together, Sam not quite caring about procedures, as the man they were made for was dead. A gust of wind snapped him from his hopeful thinking, and he squinted his eyes at the change of lighting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sky was beautiful light blue, clouds lazily roaming past as the wind shook the trees and grass. Tommy shook as he took in the sights of the outdoors, and he left himself feel calm. He was free. He was free. He was finally free.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt tears well up in his eyes, so he reached up a hand to vigorously wipe them away. He let his smile stretch his face, and he laughed into the air as they all made their way to Sam’s home.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's going to be a bitch writing newer chapters because I got to do some stupid ass partial hospitalization program starting Monday. Imma be there for 6 hours :( fuuuuuuck its like high school all over again. If this shit doesn't make me better I swear I'm going to commmit not aliven't /joke</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>